in a limp pile on the floor.

Jerking the Luger free, Stan swept it upon the two rats. "Down on your
faces," he gritted. "Flat on the floor or I'll shoot!"

Stark fear leaped into the eyes of the two men and they tumbled flat on
the floor, sprawling there with faces covered. Then Stan saw Herr Naggel
pulling himself slowly up to the table. A wild, crazy light flamed in
the eyes of the spy. Stan made a lightning decision.

It made his flesh creep to think of shooting these men, but he dared not
leave them in the cellar, and there was nothing to bind and gag them
with. If he left them, they might get away and send word through the
vanished radioman to the Jerry squadrons awaiting the zero hour.

He was saved from any solution of his own planning by Herr Naggel. The
spy reached over, after getting to his feet, and grasped the grenade.
Jerking out the pin he hurled the grenade at Stan's head. Stan ducked
and the bomb struck the wall and bounded back. It spun around and came
to rest a few feet from the door.

"We all die. The plan shall not fail!" Herr Naggel screamed hoarsely.

Stan leaped over the grenade and halted before the door. He jerked at it
but it was locked. There was no time to get a key from the men. Behind
him he heard Naggel's insane laugh. He brought the Luger down and
blasted away at the lock. It shattered and the door opened.

Stan dived into the blackness outside, kicking the door shut as he went
out. He had stumbled only one step when the whole wall of the basement
burst outward and he was hurled up the steps and sent sprawling out into
the street.

Stan swayed, sagged forward, then pitched on his face upon the hard
street. A trickle of blood ran from the corners of his mouth. His eyes
closed slowly, glassily. He lay still, a twisted, inert bundle of flesh.

A few minutes later car brakes screeched and a black roadster with
hooded lights came to a halt. Two police officers jumped out. The dim
lights were fixed upon the body of a man lying face down in the street.
They lifted Stan to his feet and revived him after a few minutes of
work.

Stan blinked his eyes and took one big gulp of air. He began talking in
jerky sentences, repeating over and over.

"Get me to M Section of the Royal Air Force."

"That's as close as any first aid station," one of the officers said as
he looked at Stan's uniform. "And I'm thinking he belongs there."

They helped Stan into the car and sped away. Stan wiggled hi